The Last of Seven
by Sarsarsar
Summary: Just a canon-friendly fanfic about the final moments of the Band of Seven. Some blood and gore.


The Last of Seven:  
Dying wasn't hard.

The final battle with the allied warlords had ended all too quickly. They had finally caught the Band of Seven in a small mountain village in which the mercenaries had been hiding. In retrospect, it had probably been a bad idea to enter the monastery all together and request one room, again, all together. But "laying low" had never been an easy concept for a few key members of the group to grasp, and, all things considered, the young leader was proud of the restraint his men had shown. However, even with their monumental self-control the blood soaked, frost-bitten, and highly armed assassins had stood out too much and paid too little to gain the inn-keeper's silence. Bankotsu had to admit though, it was kind of funny. In order to chase the now weak and diminished group out of the inn, the soldiers had set fire to it. Maybe justice could be useful, in moderation and to the right individuals. From there it was over quickly. The Band of Seven had suffered heavy losses on their journey to the village. Mukotsu who was old and already comparatively weak, and Ginkotsu whose metallic parts were not designed to withstand the cold and wet conditions of the march, had perished before reaching the village. The remaining five members, weakened by malnutrition, hypothermia, and worst of all, grief, were in no condition to fight. It had been easy for the warlords to overwhelm them.

Bankotsu shakily began to figure where he was and why he was still alive. The last thing he remembered was being hit in the head with the hilt of a soldier's sword.  
He was supported a post. His left arm had been twisted painfully behind him and bound tightly at the wrist. His right arm had been extended and tied to another post, his elbow parallel with his face. He wondered why his arm had been supported so precariously. The cord that held it to the post was very loose and made from a different material from the coarse rope that bit into his left wrist. It was silky and purple, and somehow seemed familiar to him. In an attempt to free his right arm from this meager restraint he began to flex his fingers. It immediately became apparent why the restraints were so loose. His fingers wouldn't move from the loose fist position they were held in, but a wave of hot pain so intense that it made him convulse rippled up his forearm. It was terribly broken. He had the sickening feeling that the only thing keeping the bone roughly in place was his arm brace. In any case, even if he did free his arm, it wouldn't do him any good. While his right arm sustained the worst injury, the rest of him wasn't much better. His right eye was swollen almost shut and couldn't see very. Even as he strained to look around he felt a drop of blood ooze from it down his cheek. Around his feet were small puddles of frozen blood. He assumed that this was due to his skin cracking with frostbite. He had been stripped of his armor and even the sash that held his shirt closed, leaving his chest, a patchwork of bruises and cuts, exposed to the icy air. The world had the distinct smell of snow and blood, but it felt as if something in the air was missing. Whatever it was, the battered mercenary couldn't quite put his finger on it. He chalked the uneasy feeling up to being bound and awaiting death.

"Ah, I see you're finally awake. Your friends have been waiting for you."  
Bankotsu started at the sudden voice from behind him. He immediately knew who it was.  
"Oh, General," he said, his voice soft, but characteristically smug. "I see you're still as cowardly as ever, unable to talk to my face even while I'm bound and harmless."  
As Bankotsu spoke he felt a stream of blood rise from his throat and fall from his lips down his chin. So he had had internal injuries as well... Things were not looking good.  
"Now, now," the general continued, stepping in front of Bankotsu. "I think some respect is due to me. I've been quite good to you. Is your arm comfortable? Your... flamboyant... friend was adamant it be put in a sling. He donated his scarf to the cause. Would a coward allow such a kindness?"  
Bankotsu looked at his arm again and realized that it was Jakotsu's scarf that held his arm up in relative comfort.  
"Where... where are my friends?" Bankotsu asked, ignoring the general's attempt at small talk. "Show them to me."  
"Oh you'll see them soon enough." The general hissed through his mask. That mask had bothered Bankotsu from the time he'd met the general. In his mind, only the duplicitous hid behind non-functional masks.  
"You see that post?" the general continued, gesturing to an empty post a few yards in front of where Bankotsu was tied. "We thought it would be kind to let you address your comrades individually. Give them a personal send-off from their brave leader."  
Bankotsu felt his blood run cold, colder than it already was. He had known that in the event of their capture they would be executed, but the stark reality that the time had come hit him like a bolt. He wasn't ready to see this. He would never be ready to see this.  
"No!" he yelled, all traces of arrogance gone from his voice. "No, please. Spare them. I'll give you anything to spare them. You want to know where our treasury is hidden? You want our work for free, for us to join your army? Anything. I'll give you anything. Just spare them." Tears began to swell in his eyes. Another drop of blood trickled down his right cheek. "I've already seen two of them die. I can't let the rest. Anything you want. It's yours."  
"Oh we do want something," the general said. "But we can't have it until your friends are dead." As the masked man spoke, his voice seemed to become more gleefully manic. He was enjoying this. From the start he'd been envious of the Band of Seven. The four members he considered to be the "leaders" weren't even out of their twenties. The leader in particular was barely past childhood. He couldn't be past 21 or 22 (I know he's 17 according to Takahashi, but I always imagined him just a bit older). How had a little bastard like him gained not only so much physical strength and prestige in battle, but so much respect from both his subordinates as well as the clientele who hired him? Now that he finally had the young leader at his mercy, he was determined to enjoy himself.

The first of the remaining Band of Seven to be brought to the post was Kyokotsu. He was one of the newer recruits, hired only a few months before their capture, but Bankotsu knew his worth. In a short time, he'd come to respect the man who most viewed as a monster. Despite his pain and fear, Bankotsu couldn't help but smile at the fact that it took no fewer than ten men to drag the giant to the post, and even more to keep him restrained. This seemed to amuse Kyokotsu, likewise. He chuckled as his head was lowered.  
"Kyo- I'm so sorry," Bankotsu said. "If I knew that this was your end-"  
"You didn't know, but I did," Kyokotsu said with a chuckle that shook the earth. "I knew that I was not long for this world. Part of the reason I decided to follow you was so that I could make the most of it, serve some purpose, twisted as may be, before going to the grave. So thank y-" His last word was interrupted by the General's sword. Kyokotsu's speech had rattled him. He had been expecting vile and venom from the giant, not a cheerful, and disturbingly eloquent, display of gratitude. As his head fell from his shoulders, a fresh wave of tears overtook Bankotsu, who likewise had been expecting anger. He cried silently, eyes transfixed on Kyokotsu's corpse as the soldiers dragged it away.

The next member to be led to the post was Suikotsu. Unlike Kyokotsu, who'd had to be dragged, he walked of his own volition, with only one soldier guiding him. Bankotsu had been expecting this much. As soon as the group realized that their lives were in real danger at the very beginning of their flight, Suikotsu's violent side had withdrawn leaving the physician to deal with the mess. It hadn't been immediately obvious as they were fleeing. Suikotsu still looked like the murderer (since this was his first life and he didn't have ghostly anatomical bonuses, his tattoos were actually permanent). He'd continued on with the group of mercenaries all the following day. The only person who'd caught on to the change was Bankotsu. As they set up a camp at the end of the harrowing day, Bankotsu had pulled Suikotsu aside to talk. This wasn't the first time his gentle personality had emerged. Usually it was overcome by his violent side in a matter of minutes, but this time, the physician had been dominant for hours. "Listen," Bankotsu had said when they were out of earshot of the others. "I know it's you." He looked at the doctor's face trying to gauge his reaction, but received nothing but a somber nod in return. "The point I'm trying to make is that... I know the violent one is hiding or gone or..." Bankotsu continued gently, unsure of what to say. "Anyway, nobody is keeping you here. You can leave any time you want. I don't know why you've stayed with us the entire day. Maybe you're too scared of us to leave, but you shouldn't be. Nobody will blame you if you go. If you slip away now, the armies won't find you. They won't be after a lone man. I know this isn't your life and isn't your fault. So go." To Bankotsu's surprise, Suikotsu began to laugh. It wasn't the harsh, manic laugh of the murderer, but a soft, gentle laugh. "Go where?" Suikotsu asked, still chuckling. "You know as well as I do that as soon as I'm out of harm's way, my evil half will come back. He'll continue to rampage and kill with nobody to hold him in check. Did you know that you and the Band of Seven were the only things reigning him in? Before you he used to go from village to village, killing randomly. At least under you there was structure and order. He killed other killers, and innocent, truly innocent, casualties were kept at a minimum." He laughed again at the look of shock on the young man's face and gave his shoulder reassuring pat. "Either way this ends for me, it ends better than it ever would on my own. If I die I am free, and if we live to continue to serve you, you'll keep me in tow. Besides that, you may be a bunch of killers and thugs- no offense, I'm sorry- but you're honest, and you care about one another. You are far superior to the scum that pursues us. If helping you means hurting them, if even a little bit, I will continue to follow."

Bankotsu stared at the physician for a few moments, shocked by his earnest words. "Suikotsu... I mean, Suichi," he began, using the man's name before his time with the Band of Seven. "I don't know what to say-"  
"Don't worry, and don't call me that," the physician said. "I'm Suikotsu now, and I have been for quite some time. Now, I've picked up a few things from the killer," he gestured to the claws hanging off his belt, "but I think I'll be the most useful as a medic. The winter's going to be harsh this year and since we weren't able to make it to our storage and treasury, we're sadly unprepared for the cold conditions. I think I can help us keep going and stave off the worst of the frostbite and hypothermia."  
And after Suikotsu had explained the word "hypothermia" to Bankotsu, they had proceeded. To Suikotsu's surprise the group had been fine with and, in the case of Mukotsu who was already beginning to weaken and Renkotsu who had been promoting the idea of hiring a professional medic for quite a while, had even been eager for the personality switch. True to his word, he'd helped them through the icy mountains.

And now here he was, about to be executed. Despite his gentle nature Suikotsu had fought tooth and nail against the General's men. It seemed he really had learned a few tricks from his darker half. His face was worse than even Bankotsu's. The leader was shocked to see that the medic was actually missing an eye and, judging from his smiled, a few teeth. "How's the arm?" Suikotsu asked, his voice level and easy, as he was bound to the post.

"Could be worse," Bankotsu responded. "Listen, doctor… I'm sorry. You should have run. I should have made you. This isn't your life and it's my fault-"

"Bankotsu… Big Brother," Suikotsu said, his voice still gentle, his smile bloody but genuine. "I made my choice and I am happy with it. Do I seem upset to you?" Suikotsu looked up at the masked general. All signs of meekness left him. For half a second Bankotsu thought he was looking at the murderer again, but the soft voice that issued, while enraged, was still the medic's. "This piece of filth, on the other ha-"

Like Kyokotsu, Suikotsu was hushed by the swing of the general's sword. Bankotsu let out an enraged wail.

"You said I could have last words!" He yelled, blood spraying from his lips. "You lying coward! Let my men speak!"

"I owe you nothing," the general hissed back. He was outraged. He knew the feminine one would be kind to his leader, but the others? What was their attachment? Why did they respect the man who was responsible for their deaths?

"Bring the next one," he growled. "No… not the woman." Bankotsu heard a muffled but dissenting snort from behind him that he instantly recognized as an enraged but gagged Jakotsu. "Bring the bald one. The fire master. You two should have an interesting discussion. A lot to catch up on."

Bankotsu didn't know what the masked general meant but was sure he didn't want to know. Since Ginkotsu's death, Renkotsu, who had been the second most loyal member behind Jakotsu, had been different. Bankotsu understood, or thought he did. What Jakotsu was to him, Ginkotsu was to Renkotsu. The two had been traveling together before joining the Band of Seven. It had been Ginkotsu who had saved Renkotsu as a teenager from the fire that consumed his monastery where he'd grown up, and Renkotsu in turn had cured him of the injuries he'd received on that day. The two had become fire-forged companions from that day onward. Ginkotsu's death had caught everyone off guard. It hadn't been in battle or due to an accident caused by the rough terrain. One morning, after a particularly cold night, he simply didn't wake up. Even Suikotsu, who'd been watching everyone closely for signs of sickness, was shocked. If he had been feeling poorly, the stoic Ginkotsu hadn't let on. He'd forged ahead, seeming as strong as ever. Needless to say, Renkotsu was devastated. Like his friend, Renkotsu tended to be stoic, never displaying any deep emotions. He was always logical and never rash. In emergency situations, he was the only one besides Bankotsu himself who could calm the team and bring them back to reality. It was one of the traits that had made him such a great strategist and helped him become second in command. After the death of Ginkotsu, any hint of emotion the Renkotsu had vanished. One single tear had fallen and after that… nothing. When they discovered the fallen Ginkotsu, Bankotsu had immediately decided to pause their flight to bury and honor their fallen comrade as they'd done for Mukotsu a week earlier, but Renkotsu had refused.

"We can't stop now," he said, his voice flat. "They're a day behind us at best and burying Ginkotsu would take us hours. We press on."

"You can't be seriou-" Bankotsu began but was cut off.

"We. Don't. Stop." Normally Bankotsu wouldn't tolerate such a level of blatant insubordination. It was especially shocking coming from Renkotsu. Sure, he and the strategist often didn't see eye-to-eye, but they'd always been able to talk things through calmly without Renkotsu ever overstepping his boundaries. Bankotsu decided that it must be grief causing Renkotsu to act so uncharacteristically out of order, and let it go.

"Of course," he said softly. "He was your companion. The decision is yours to make."

And with that, they'd marched on, leaving Ginkotsu in the snow. Renkotsu had barely said a word, and what he did say only had to do with plans. Despite being calm and stoic, Renkotsu had always been good company, eager to talk and joke with his friends. But from that day on, his easy nature was gone.

Like Suikotsu, it took only one soldier to lead Renkotsu to the post. He knelt down on his own and allowed his hands to be bound behind him. While he still had a few cuts and bruises, he didn't look nearly as beat up as Kyokotsu or Suikotsu. Suddenly Bankotsu realized what felt wrong about the air. All he could smell was snow, blood, sweat, and disturbed earth. The smell of burning, which he'd come to associate so strongly with battle, was completely absent. Slowly, Renkotsu raised his head to look his leader in the eyes. What Bankotsu saw shocked him. The dead, vacant stare had left Renkotsu's face and was replaced with what looked like hot rage. He said nothing, but knelt there, glaring at Bankotsu.

"Go ahead," the general prompted. "Tell him."

"You…" Renkotsu began, hissing. "It's all your fault. All of this. Mukotsu, Kyokotsu, Suikotsu… G-Ginkotsu. They're all dead because of YOU. You little bastard."

Bankotsu stared at his friend, his second in command. "I… Listen, I'm-"

"I DON'T HAVE TO DO WHAT YOU SAY!" Renkotsu roared. "I was loyal! I was your faithful lieutenant. I trusted you, and where did that get me?! Here! At death's door!"

"Good, now tell him about the battle," the general prompted.

If he was in his right mind, if he was not panicking, Renkotsu would never have fallen for the general's goading. But something had snapped within him. He carried on in a frenzy. "I gave up," he growled. "I surrendered. I saw my way out and I took it!"

"But, it wasn't a way out," Bankotsu began to protest. "You're still about to be-"

"SHUT UP YOU LITTLE PRICK!" Renkotsu shouted. "I will not die! I will not die! NOT FOR YOU!"

"No, but you will die for me." And with that, the general swing his sword once more.

Bankotsu began to cry. Not the silent, dignified tears he'd shed for Kyokotsu and Suikotsu, but great, unfettered sobs. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he choked out, to everyone and no one at once. "I never thought-"

"Ohh, shuuut up!" a familiar voice rang out behind him. Suddenly Jakotsu was being marched past him, led by three men. One Held him by the hair and pressed a knife in his back to keep him moving forward. Another held one of his arms twisted at a painful angle, and the other was supporting him. Jakotsu's left ankle was dark purple, his foot twisted into a strange angle. It was clear that his leg was broken under him. Through his sobs Bankotsu noticed that Jakotsu was reaching for the supporter's hand, trying to hold it as one might a lover's hand. Of course the soldier knocked his hand away at every attempt, but that didn't seem to hinder Jakotsu in the least. "Aw come on, don't be shy. I saw the way you were looking at me earlier, hot stuff," he chided, laughing as if nothing was wrong.

"I… I thought you were a woman," the soldier protested, dodging Jakotsu's hand once more. At this, Jakotsu's flicked him on the forehead. "I am a man! Obviously."

Despite himself, despite everything, a small laugh escaped Bankotsu's lips. It was so comforting to know that, no matter what this situation, Jakotsu would always be the same. Jakotsu knelt down against the post with little protest. The soldier who'd been supporting him was the one who was responsible for holding him down while another soldier tied his arms behind him. As soon as the ropes were secured and the supporter let his guard down, Jakotsu launched himself forward and planted a kiss square on the man's lips. "One for the road, sexy-face!" he called merrily as the soldier leapt backwards. Only then did he turn his attention to Bankotsu. "Oh, hi Brother! I didn't see you there. Well this is awkward."

"Hi Jakotsu," Bankotsu managed, his voice a bizarre cross between sobs and crippling laughter. Jakotsu looked about the same as Suikotsu and Kyokotsu, bruised and bleeding.

"So Renkotsu," Jakotsu began as if starting just another conversation and not staring death in the face. "He's one sword short of an armory, huh? I must admit, I never saw him as the rampant insanity type. I bet it was all that fire juice. You know it can't be good for you. Hell, Mukotsu makes it! Probably fried his brain a little. And you know he had no hair to insulate it either. It's like they always say, lose the hair and the mind is soon to follow. Or I always say at least. And man that's a sharp sword, huh? It cut through Kyo in just one stroke! Oh, on a scale of 1 to 10, how cute is Mask-Face-Sama? I'd say he's at least a solid-"

"Enough!" the masked general finally yelled. He'd been so transfixed by Jakotsu's chatter that he didn't snap out of it until he heard his name, or at least what Jakotsu had been calling him for the last few hours. There had been a good reason that Jakotsu had been the only Band of Seven member gagged while waiting for Bankotsu to wake up. "Stop your babbling, you wretched bitch!" he yelled.

"Wow, that's pretty big talk coming from a 5. And I'm a bastard, not a bitch. Get it right," Jakotsu shot back, unimpeded. With that he turned his attention back to Bankotsu. "How you holding up, Big Brother?" Jakotsu asked, the airy giddiness in his voice replaced with sincere care.

"Not good," Bankotsu said, even more tears welling up in his eyes. "They're about to kill my best friend."

"Shhhh," Jakotsu whispered. "It's okay. I kind of know how you feel. They're about to kill my best friend, too." Tears, mingled with blood and charcoal makeup, began to fall from Jakotsu's eyes as well. "But it's all okay. Don't worry. Don't worry. Shhhh," he comforted. "I have a feeling… I'm going to see you soon. I can't explain it, but I do."

"Ugh I've had enough of this nonsense," the masked general grumbled as he drew his sword. "Your time has come, you wretch." Bankotsu gasped and choked back bile at the sight of the now blood soaked sword.

"You've been saying that for hours now," Jakotsu said, rolling his eyes. "Are you just all talk, cutie, or are we actually going to get down to-"

And then Bankotsu was the only one left.

He was expecting to sob, to vomit, to die by grief alone. But instead he just felt empty. He'd lost everything and everyone he'd ever cared for, so why should he cry? What was the point?

The general strode over to Bankotsu and wiped the sword on his shoulder, covering Bankotsu with the blood of his friends. "Like I said," the general began. "There is something I, or particularly my lord wants from you. He wants your service. Now that your friends are dispatched, we feel confident that hiring you permanently won't cost us our lives. Think about it. You could be great, you know." The general had thought he would hate making the offer, but, seeing the broken man before him, he knew that this shell of a leader would be easy to manipulate. To torture forever.

But much to the surprise of everyone, a roll of laughter began to build in Bankotsu's stomach and rumble up through his lips. It wasn't the laugh of a mad man, or the hollow giggle of those with nothing to lose. It was strong, and proud, and unafraid. "He's right," he said through shaking shoulders. "Oh Jakotsu is right. I really think I am going to see you again. And oh general, or in memory of my fallen companion, cutie, I will make you suffer." He grinned widely at the masked general, his teeth stained red with the blood that had been steadily flowing from his throat. "So wash your neck and wait."

Bankotsu saw the enraged general lift his sword, heard it rushing towards his neck, and then knew only blackness. Blackness, and a soft voice whispering gently in his ear.

"Arise, Bankotsu. Arise with your companions."


End file.
